Better to Be Lucky Than Good

We Americans are big fans of the Horatio Alger-style, lift-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps story. We are a country of self-made men and women! And because we worked hard for our accomplishments, we “deserve” them. There is an uncomfortable tangent to this narrative, though. Namely, if you don’t work hard, then any misfortune you experience is “deserved.” And hey, in some cases, it works out that way: Person is lazy and generally unpleasant, person doesn’t advance very far. That happens a lot! But there are also people who seemingly fly by the seat of their pants and always make out OK. We tend to grumble about those people’s luck. But the people I wonder about are those who don’t appear to have done anything wrong, yet constantly experience many a hardship and tribulation. For these people, we sadly shake our head, call them unlucky, and move on with our lives.
I was reminded of this quadrant — the “unlucky” — earlier today at church. The priest was visiting from the Catarman Diocese in the Philippines. He was here on a missionary appeal: basically, asking for money to help the people of his diocese. Me personally, I always get a little uncomfortable when people start asking for money because I get suspicious about intent — not necessarily in this case because it’s through the church, but I’ve been taken before, and being “had” by a devious crook is a horrible feeling.
Anyways, as the priest was making his case, I started thinking about his current trip in San Francisco. If he had family and/or friends here, and whether they took him out to popular tourist spots, what kind of food he tried, what he was thinking when he saw the City. During his speech, the priest said that most of the people of Catarman were farmers. I tried imagining what he must have thought when he saw the Techies, business folks, and other well-educated people here. If I was that priest, I would have thought, “These people don’t know how blessed they are. I pray that they appreciate these gifts they’ve been bestowed.” That might come off as a bit condescending, but it’s all relative. Like, if everyone you know has a car, then you start comparing the models and features of those cars. But if only a handful of people in town owned cars, then it doesn’t really matter what kind of car it is — simply having one signals your status.
As the priest went on, my mind drifted to what a 28-year-old guy in Catarman would be like. Based on some of my assumptions and the priest’s descriptions, a Catarman-version of Chris Wong would probably be a farmer. Would likely have a family already, with several kids. Me, personally, I’m not the most forward-looking individual out there, so my ambitions would be focused on how I could maximize my crop to provide for my family, rather than considering options like education. Realistically, I wouldn’t consider education as an efficient use of time — it would be a bet, and not a great one at that.
On the more optimistic side, though, I’m pretty sure a Catarman-version Chris Wong would be a terrific storyteller, much better than me. He would always have a smile on his face and try to make people laugh. His family, friends, and neighbors would respect him and recognize him as an upstanding person of society. And he would be an optimist, just like San Francisco Chris Wong is. I’m certain he would believe that as tough as life may seem, “God will provide” — a line the priest used in describing the people of Catarman. I found that very uplifting. You can only play with the cards you’re dealt and make the best of what you’re given. The indomitable strength of the human spirit is a hell of a thing, and it’s how we’ve survived as a species for thousands of years.
As the priest wrapped up and thanked the congregation for their time, I prepared to give a $20 bill to the second collection, which was going to Catarman. $20 is a lot. It could buy me 2.5 salads — typical lunch to maintain the summer bod, cuz that’s a luxury I can pursue — from the downstairs cafe, which I wolf down as I review reports that will be disseminated to people who are very well-off. $20 can also buy food that will feed a family for several days so that they don’t starve.
It’s all relative, after all. And I’d always rather be lucky than good.
